


a stranger in a bar on valentine's day

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009, 22 to 28, Canon Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slight Age Difference, Strangers to Lovers, Younger Phil, older dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: it’s valentine’s day 2009 and phil meets an attractive and mysterious man at a bar





	a stranger in a bar on valentine's day

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to waveydnp for all your help and support, as always :)) and also thanks to autumn-in-phandom for your help and extensive knowledge of dnp canon.

He was the most attractive man Phil had ever seen. Well, maybe not objectively. He wasn’t the most muscular and fit. He didn’t have a square jaw. He didn't have the thick stubble Phil would imagine rubbing against his cheeks or burning at his upper lip. But, subjectively, that man sitting at a nearby table was the best thing Phil Lester had ever seen.

He had a head of lush, dark curls, and even darker eyes. His lips were pink, a little split, as he kept digging his teeth into the bottom one. Dark freckles dotted his cheeks, which were gently dented with lovely dimples. There was a little rosy patch above his jaw on one side that Phil craved to study up close. He wanted to earn a qualification in that little spot of pink.

A shoulder nudged into his own.

“Eh, mate,” Jimmy said. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not... what?”

Jimmy chuckled, then took a sip of his beer. He wiped a stray drop away with the back of his hand. “You need to work on your subtlety. I keep getting ready to catch your eyes. They look like they’re about to drop out of your head.”

Phil shot him a glare. “I wasn’t…I’m just…” He sighed. What was even the use? He had been staring.

“No judgement, Lester,” Jimmy said. “But somehow that man hasn’t noticed you gawking yet and you didn’t seem aware of how obvious you were being. If he ever looks up from the book he’s reading, he’s going to notice and I thought you might want to be able to prepare yourself.”

“Prepare myself for what?”

“For whatever reaction that admittedly gorgeous man might have to being stared at by an admittedly cute but socially awkward emo.”

Phil gave Jimmy a withered look, then looked down at his own drink. He wished he were the kind of guy who could just walk across the pub and strike up a conversation with this man whose lips were moving a little as he read from a dog-eared book. Phil could tell the stranger was probably a few years older than he was. His smile at the bartender had shown off the deep, wonderful crinkles around his eyes.

It was obvious he wasn’t _that_ much older than Phil, but he’d still shed most of those youthful features Phil still possessed, like his slender frame, round eyes and slightly gangly motions. This man—this beautiful, beautiful man—had the kind of stillness that could only be born from time.

“You’re staring again,” Jimmy whispered as he took another sip of his beer.

 _Shit._ He was. And this time— _shit, shit, shit_ —it seemed the man had noticed. He was looking back at Phil with wide eyes, stiff and startled, like Phil had done something worse, something more intrusive, than looking at a stranger in a bar on Valentine’s Day.

His heart kicked into overdrive and he wasn’t sure what to do in a moment like this. Should he duck his gaze away and pretend he hadn’t been looking at all? Should he smile and hope the man smiled back? Should he walk over and introduce himself?

His reaction didn’t end up mattering. The man tossed a few quid out for the waitress, tucked his book under his arm and walked out of the bar. 

The open door let in a chill that washed over Phil and made him shiver.

“Well… that was fucking weird,” Jimmy said.

Phil slid down in his chair. “I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. Now, I feel bad.”

Jimmy shrugged. “Eh, it was an overreaction, mate. He’s probably just a homophobe. Who gives a fuck?”

“He didn’t look like a homophobe.” Phil glanced back at the table where the stranger had been sitting. The quid for the waitress was still sitting on the tabletop, but so was something else. A small, soft-looking rectangle of black leather. The man had forgotten his wallet.

Phil stood up from his chair and reached for his own wallet. He pulled out some money and laid it on the table.

“Phil, what are you doing?” Jimmy asked.

“N-nothing. I’m just… I have to go.” What _was_ he doing?

“What?” Jimmy looked at Phil liked Phil had grown a third nipple on his forehead. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere… I have to go.” Phil slipped away from Jimmy and walked the few feet over to the table where the man had been sitting. As if his intention were to steal and he didn’t want to be caught, he checked to make sure he wasn't being watched. No one was paying him any mind so he snatched the leather wallet off the table and walked back past Jimmy.

“What are you doing?” Jimmy hissed. “You can’t just take someone’s wallet.”

“I had to. Someone could steal it,” Phil replied.

“Mate. _You’re_ stealing it.”

“I’m not. I’m… returning it.”

“Semantics.” Jimmy let out a breath and realization crossed his face. “Wait…you’re…Phil, you’re not going after that guy. Are you mad?”

Phil shrugged. Maybe he was. Maybe being alone on Valentine’s Day again, like always, was making him a little bit mad. Maybe he didn’t care.

“Sorry, Jimmy. I have to… I’ll see you tomorrow at seminar.” Phil threw his coat back on as he strode out of the bar and into the dark.

Maybe he could catch the guy before he got too far away. If not, he’d open the wallet and find the stranger’s information and try to get in contact with him.

Phil looked both ways down the pavement. He didn’t see anything in the dark but a few girls milling about together. The man was nowhere to be seen and Phil didn't know where to begin to look. Besides, it was cold. ‘Freeze your tits off cold’, as Martyn would say when their mum wasn’t listening, and Phil had a bit of a walk back to his shared flat. He blew out a shaky breath that curled into a cloud as he hurried south.

Before he got too far, Phil stopped under the glow of a streetlamp. Maybe he shouldn’t wait until later. Maybe there would be a number or something in this wallet and Phil could call it before the man got too far away. Phil’s chilled fingers trembled around the soft leather. Phil opened the wallet and started to pull out the stranger’s ID. All he saw was the name Daniel before he heard a sharp, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Phil yelped and dropped the wallet on the ground. He scrambled to pick it back up, but a large hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t,” the man said. The man from the bar. He pulled his hand away, but Phil didn’t lose the steady feeling of the touch.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I just, I saw you left and I didn’t want anyone to steal it.”

“Thanks,” the man said quietly, almost a little defeated as he picked up his wallet. It wasn’t the continued argument Phil had suspected, and that confused him even more.

“Y-yeah. No problem.” He cleared his throat. “I’m Phil, by the way. You’re Daniel, then?” He paused. “Sorry, I saw. In your wallet.”

“Dan.” His voice sounded tight, but it was maybe more scared than angry. _Maybe._ “Dan is fine.”

“Dan’s a good name.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. His shoulders were hunched like he was always ducking to fit into a world made a little too small for him. 

“Thanks. So’s Phil.” Dan breathed out a stream of cold, cloudy air. “Look, I should go.”

“Why?” Phil asked.

“Why, what?”

“Why should you go?”

“Because I don’t want to,” the man—Dan—mumbled.

“What?” Phil asked because he didn’t know what that meant. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure that’s what Dan had said at all.

“Nothing.” Dan sighed. “It’s nothing. Thanks for this.” He held up the wallet, then gave Phil a strange look—a fond look—and it unsettled Phil in a way he couldn’t explain.

Dan started to turn away, and something about that felt wrong to Phil, like a tug on the two ends of the universe.

“W-wait,” Phil’s voice cracked a little. “Please.”

Dan hesitated, his teeth digging into his bottom lip again. “What is it?”

“Can I buy you a drink? Or like a hamburger? Is that weird? To offer someone a hamburger… I don’t know…”

Dan smiled and it brought out those beautiful crinkles again. They looked even deeper under the strange lighting of the streetlamp. “It is definitely weird.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t ever stop being weird, okay?”

Phil tucked his thumbs into his jeans. “Um, alright.”

Dan laughed—a quiet warm thing, then shook his head, looking down at the ground. “Alright, then.”

“Alright, what?”

“Buy me a hamburger,” Dan said, but there was something timid about it, hesitant but warm. Like he was agreeing to something much bigger than a hamburger. Phil wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to peel back a few layers and figure some of this strange and beautiful man out.

“Really?” Phil started to smile. “There’s an American diner not far from here. It’s not like, you know, amazing, but they have chips. If you like chips. Do you? Like chips, I mean.”

“Yeah, Phil,” Dan said softly. “I like chips.”

“Cool. It’s not too far. We can walk, even in the cold.”

The wind whipped again and Phil wasn’t so sure of it, but he forged ahead anyway. Dan was behind him at first, but then slowly caught up.

“So, uh, what book were you reading?” Phil asked to fill what was beginning to be an awkward silence. Had going after this man been a totally stupid idea?

“Hmm…?” Dan said, sounding distracted, but at least he was looking over at Phil with what looked like interest.

“The book. The one you were reading back at the bar.”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged and rustled the deep black coat hung over his shoulders. It looked elaborate, expensive, with its extra shorter coat attached. But it was tailored to fit Dan’s large frame exceptionally well. “Just something I picked up a thrift store.”

He passed the worn book over to Phil. He skimmed his hands over the matte white cover, feeling the slightly raised text of the font— _Love_. In small, flat letters underneath— _a book of poetry._

Phil casually flipped through it, feeling the softness of the pages and inspecting the obvious wear. He tapped the dog-eared corner with his finger. “Was it like this when you…”

Dan shook his head. “I’m not even sure it had been read before I found it.”

“It seems you read it enough for all those people who didn’t.” Phil smiled and opened the book, letting the street lamps illuminate the pages. “What’s your favorite?”

When Dan reached out to take the book back, his thumb brushed over the top of Phil’s. It made Phil’s heart twitch. Dan stiffened, then cleared his throat. Dan thumbed through the pages before passing the book back to Phil.

“This one,” he said. “Top left. You’ve probably read it before. It’s not particularly obscure or impressive, but I like it anyway.”

Phil smoothed his thumb over the text. A little faded—and the page was slightly damaged, wrinkled like it had at times been wet then dried over again. It was e.e cummings. He remembered he had read it before for an assignment he’d rushed through to get on to something else. Phil kept his voice low, but he started to read it aloud, “I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it. Anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling.”

“See, it’s… trite.” Dan reached for the book, but Phil wasn’t ready to give it back.

Phil kept reading, though this time silently. The language was deep but beautiful, like shining a flashlight into the ocean at night. It created a feeling in him that wasn’t unlike how it had felt when Dan’s thumb had brushed his own. It was lovely— _this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart._

He looked over at Dan, who turned away as soon as he did.

Phil returned his gaze to the book, back to the line his mind seemed to stick on. “This is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart,” he read aloud and smiled. It was a small thing on his lips, but a big thing inside him. “It’s not trite,” he said to Dan. “It’s good.”

Something unnameable flickered across Dan’s face, and Phil found himself wanting to be the one to name it. He laid the worn book back in Dan’s hands. Their thumbs didn’t touch this time, but Phil wished they had.

A few steps away, a neon sign buzzed in a frosty window.

“It’s up there,” Phil said. He jogged towards it, the sudden call of the warmth inside the diner too strong to resist. It took him a few moments, but then he noticed Dan hadn’t followed him. Nerves prickling, he turned to look back at him.

Dan hadn’t taken off. He was just standing there a couple yards back, his hands in his coat pockets. His head was tilted and the wind was rustling his hair. He reached up and brushed a stray curl off his forehead. He seemed somehow both troubled and settled with the way he carried his broad shoulders. A layer of seriousness had settled over him, like the dusting of ice on the diner window.

“Uh,” Phil said, suddenly feeling a little young, a little silly. “Are you coming?”

Dan nodded. “Of course,” he said like it really was of course. Of course he was coming. Of course he was here. Of course he couldn’t possibly be anywhere else in the world tonight but here.

Phil didn’t understand it, but he found it exciting, like a shot of electricity to his veins.

In seconds, Dan caught up to him, swept past him and held open the door. Phil tensed as he walked past Dan and into the diner. When his gaze flicked up to Dan, their eyes met. It was a quick thing, but it fizzled through him. It reminded him of childhood holidays in Florida. Of him and Martyn barefoot on warm concrete, pouring Pop Rocks onto their tongues.

Phil didn’t realize how cold he’d been until he was warming up in the heat pouring from the diner’s creaky vents. They slipped into one the many vacant booths, and they both tugged out vinyl menus from behind a silver napkin holder.

The booth was cramped with their long legs, and it was impossible not to bump knees. Phil didn’t mind. He hoped Dan didn’t either.

“So,” Dan said. “What’s good here?”

“You have to lower your expectations to okay. But if you do, then the bacon cheeseburger and a side of chips is the way to go.”

“Is that what you’re going to get?”

Phil nodded. ”Yeah, except no cheese.” He pushed back a bit of his long fringe. “And a milkshake. They have really okay chocolate milkshakes.”

Dan laughed, a rich sound that felt like something Phil could hold in his hand, could stretch out through his fingertips. He wanted to hear it again. Hold it again.

“The chips are the only thing that might be able to qualify as g…” Phil’s voice trailed off asDan shrugged out of his coat, revealing his well-fitting, grid-patterned black sweater. It looked good on him. 

Dan was a very attractive man. A man. Not a boy. Not that Phil was a boy. He was twenty-two, but he’d never found his way out of the phases he maybe should have gotten over in the past few years. Never found his way out of ill fitting skinny jeans and fringe and bright plaid, like the yellow-and-black shirt he was wearing tonight.

Dan was taking his coat off for a reason. It was hot in here and the temperature change was too much. Phil was already starting to sweat.He unzipped his jacket, then tugged it off. He crammed the coat in the booth between him and the wall, though there wasn’t much room there. That’s when he’d noticed Dan had folded his coat meticulously and laid it across his lap.

“I like your shirt,” Dan said softly as he tucked the menu back behind the napkin.

“Oh, thanks,” Phil replied, feeling the heat in his cheeks. “You already decide what to order?”

“I’m trusting your judgement.”

“You sure that’s wise?” Phil asked, bolstered by Dan’s complement of his shirt, as silly as that was.

Dan looked out the window. “None of this is wise.” His voice took on that strange quality again—dark and out of reach.

The waitress walked up and took their orders. Dan was so warm and polite to her that it made Phil smile.

“I feel a little bad,” Dan said when they were alone again.

Phil furrowed his brow. “For what?”

“For occupying your Valentine’s Day.”

Phil let out a snorted laugh. “I couldn’t have been less occupied.”

“You were with a friend, weren’t you?”

“Jimmy. Yeah. He ruined my plans of sitting ‘round in my pants watching _Buffy_ re-runs.” Phil immediately regretted admitting to that. He always forgot to be cool and started talking about _Buffy._

“Sounds like a damn good night.”

Phil fidgeted with his fringe. “You don’t have to humor me.”

“I’m not. That literally sounds like a damn good night.”

A smile tugged hard enough at Phil’s cheeks that it burned. “I’m glad I didn’t stay in tonight, though.”

Dan looked down at the tabletop, a little deflated. “Yeah… right…”

“Do you?… um… like I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything… it’s totally cool if you want to leave.”

“Phil, no… you’re… I’m glad you asked me to have a hamburger with you."

A few moments later, the waitress brought by Phil’s milkshake. She also brought an extra spoon and an extra straw, just in case. Dan hadn’t gotten one. He said it was too cold for him to drink a milkshake. He was probably right.

Phil dipped the straw into the chocolate milkshake and took a sip. It was chocolatey and mediocre, like he remembered. But that was fine. Tonight, okay definitely felt more like good.

He licked a little drop of chocolate shake off his lips. “You sure you don’t want to try some? It’s really—”

“Mediocre?” Dan grinned the kind of grin that was in more than the mouth. It was in the eyes and the nose, and in the ears a little bit too.

“Yeah.” Phil pushed the milkshake across the vinyl tabletop.

Instead of grabbing the extra straw or spoon, Dan put his lips over the straw Phil had been drinking out of. It was silly. It wasn’t like he never shared drinks with people, but there was still something so casually, unexpectedly, intimate about the gesture. Phil stared at the gleam of wetness on the straw when Dan pulled away.

“So how was it?” Phil asked.

“You know,” he paused, thoughtful. “It was just okay.”

Phil leaned back in the booth and snickered. Dan responded with a loud laugh of his own, and they spurred each other on until they got a glare from the only other patrons in the diner.

When they lowered their voices, it seemed to seal them off from the rest of the world. It created a cozy, secluded bubble for the two of them. Even the waitress coming over to drop off the food didn’t break the feeling.

Dan took a bite of his cheeseburger. “You’re right,” he said. “This is alsojust okay.”

Phil laughed, the kind of laugh where he’d stick his tongue between his teeth and spit. He stopped short. He always got picked on for that.

“You have the best laugh.” Dan sounded wistful with a limp chip between his fingers.

“You’re the first person to say that… well besides my mum.”

“Ca-cause…she must be a smart lady.” Dan tensed, like he was pulling back into that strange shell of his.

This man was attractive, and he seemed really sweet, but Phil didn’t actually know him and he’d been acting odd. Maybe this would turn out to be a curiosity killed the cat situation.

Phil couldn’t help but ask. “So, um, tell me about yourself. If you want, I mean…”

“What do you want to know?”

“I dunno. For starters, I guess like what do you do?”

“What do _you_ do?”

Phil frowned a little. He was sad Dan was evading his questions, but he guessed he had to give some to expect anything back. “I’m a student at York. You?”

“I am not a student at York. No.”

Phil gave him squinty-eyed look.

“Alright, alright. I work at a thrift store.”

“Where you got your poetry book?”

Dan nodded. “Yeah. Do you like school?”

“Kind of over it at this point. I stayed on because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but now I’m just done. I graduate this year, but then I’ve still got to figure out what I’m going to do next. Which is absolutely terrifying.” Phil let out a breath. “Do you like working where you do?”

“It’s okay.” Dan took another bite of burger. “I miss my old job though.”

“What did you do?”

He hesitated, frowning. “I… I had a business with my best friend.”

“That’s super cool!” Phil said. “I think it would be amazing to be close with someone and make something, you know. What happened?”

Dan looked down at his plate.

“If you want to talk about it, I mean. I don’t want to like pry or upset you or anything. I’m sorry. I’m kind of nervous.”

“It’s okay. I just… I moved away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You could move back, couldn’t you?”

Dan pushed the food around on his plate. “Can we talk about something else?”

“God, of course. I’m sorry. I’m totally ruining this. I’m such a dork. I’m terrible on dates… not that this is a date, but like it feels like one. Like dinner and you’re very handsome… _shit_.”

“Phil, I… I’m not sure this was a good idea.”

Phil wanted to slide through the floor. Why did he always have to ruin everything without ever even knowing how? “I’m so sorry. You’re probably straight—”

“Breathe, mate. It’s okay. I’m definitely not straight. That’s why this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Oh.” Phil felt a little flutter in his stomach. “Why isn’t it? Are you like… I don’t know… married or something?”

Dan looked out the frosty window, then back at Phil. “No, Phil. I’m not married.”

“Then why…”

“I’m a little older than you, Phil.”

Phil stuffed a chip into his mouth. “How old are you? You don’t look that old.”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Well, I’m twenty-two. It’s not like a crazy age difference. Six years. What’s six years?”

“More than half a decade… the lifespan of a Canada goose.”

“Six years is not the lifespan of a Canada goose.”

“Wanna bet?” Dan said with a small smile.

Phil wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt strangely confident again. He wasn’t sure how, but he kind of liked this feeling that Dan was bringing out in him. ”If I win, you stay there and at least finish your burger like a civilized human and if you win, you can do whatever you want.”

Dan shrugged. “You’re on.”

Phil pulled out his phone and the internet took a moment to connect, but once it did, he googled the answer. “Ah ha. Canada geese live for fifteen to twenty four years.”

“Oh my God,” Dan said, a hand on his chest. “There are geese older than you.”

Phil glared at him. “Shut up and eat your mediocre cheeseburger.”

“Gladly.” Dan smiled at him, then picked up his cheeseburger and took a big bite.

The excitement of their little bet waned and Phil felt a bit awkward again. “You know…you don’t really have to stay. I just like want you to know that.”

“And I just like want you to know that I want to. Even if I don’t think it’s a great idea.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Because of our age gap where we’re both grown men in our twenties?”

“Yeah…” Dan let out a breath and a small laugh. “That wasn’t the best excuse, was it?”

“You don’t need an excuse,” Phil said. “I keep telling you—“

“And I keep being an ass. I’m sorry. I don’t want to fuck this up or hurt you. You’re a… you seem like a wonderful, kind person.”

“But I’m also dangerous. I take risks. Live on the edge, you know.”

Dan made a face. “Sounds like you.”

Phil shot him a playful glare. “Hey, you don’t know me. Danger could be my middle name.”

“Is it?”

“No, it’s Michael, but Danger could have been my middle name.”

Dan smiled. It was a lovely, full thing and Phil wanted to keep seeing it. Then, Dan picked up Phil’s milkshake and took a sip.

“What happened to mister it’s too cold for a milkshake?” Phil asked.

Dan sat the milkshake back down. “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

“I told you I was dangerous.”

“Yeah.” Dan let out a breath, too serious of a breath for Phil’s liking. “You are.”

Phil furrowed his brow and stared at Dan. Eating dinner with his man was going to give him whiplash. He was flirty and fun one second, and sad and distant the next.

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispered.

“For what?”

“For whatever is making you look like that.”

“Like what?”

Phil hesitated, “Really, really sad.”

Dan let out a breath. “I’m not sad, Phil. I’m actually the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. Come on, let’s just relax and eat our dinner.”

So that’s what they did. They ate their just-okay food. They made jokes and told stories. Though Phil didn’t learn many details about Dan’s life, he still felt he knew him far better than he should know someone he’d met only an hour ago.

Dan leaned in. “I feel like the waitress is glaring at us.”

Phil looked over at her and she kind of was. “You think she wants to close up?”

“It is getting pretty late, mate.”

A cool sadness settled in the pit of Phil’s stomach. He wasn’t ready for this evening to end. Not at all.

“Yeah, um, I guess so.” Phil bit at his thumbnail. “Can I say something and if I’m totally off base and being a complete dork, you’ll rip the plaster off quickly?”

“Sure, Phil.”

Phil took a deep breath and spoke fast, “I’m having a really good time and I don’t want it to end when we leave here.”

Dan didn’t say anything. He looked down at his fingers on the tabletop and let out a stiff, audible breath.

So much for ripping off the plaster.

“Are you asking me back to your flat?” Dan’s voice was low, his intention inscrutable.

“I mean… I don’t know what I’m doing. My flat is kind of gross and full of gross boys… but I—”

“What about going to mine?”

Phil tensed. This man was a stranger. Going back to his place was one of the stupidest things Phil could do. He couldn’t even believe that his voice was betraying his reason.

“We could do that.”

They paid for their dinners, and then as they were slipping their coats back on Phil asked, “So where do you live?”

“Over on Siward Street.”

“We’ll have to call a car.”

Dan did and they chatted as they waited for the car to arrive. Phil hid his hands under the table and shot off a quick text to Jimmy.

Phil: Might not be back tonight. If I am, it’ll be pretty late.

Jimmy: Are you serious? You actually landed Mr. Gorgeous?”

Phil: Oi, shut up. But yeah, I’m going back to his. He lives on Siward, just in case.

Jimmy: In case i need to tell the police where to look for the body or…?

Phil: G’night, Jim.

Jimmy: Night, you crazy bastard

“Everything okay?” Dan asked.

“Yeah, just texting my friend from earlier to let him know where I’ll be.”

Dan gave him a cheeky look. “Do you do this a lot?”

“I have literally never done anything like this ever in my life. Do you? You know, do this a lot?”

“Do I make a habit of taking socially-awkward men with emo fringe back to my flat?” Dan stood out of the booth and flipped on his coat. “At least once a week.”

Phil shot Dan a glare as he followed suit and stood from the table. Now that they’d been out of their coats, Phil felt a little silly and puffy in his down coat next to Dan’s expensive sleek one. Unfortunately, it was too cold outside to let pride win out.

“Car’s here,” Dan said. “You sure about this?” he asked softly.

Phil looked at this man with his chin tucked down toward his chest, his dark expressive eyes and his ridiculously big hands. 

“I think I’m definitely sure," Phil said.

Dan’s face lit up when he smiled and made Phil think about what he’d said earlier. That this was the happiest he’d been in a while. Phil found himself feeling the same way.

Phil followed Dan out to the car. Dan held the door open for Phil and Phil stepped in. Then Dan walked around the car to sit on the other side. He gave the driver his address and the car sped off.

With a shiver, Phil blew on his cold, achy hands. “I don’t usually mind the cold, but this is beyond.”

Dan glanced over at him, his eyes fluttering shut and then opening again. It was a look that made Phil feel like he’d taken a sip of warm tea.

“What?” Phil asked, staring down at his freezing hands.

“Just remembering something.”

“What?” Phil asked again.

“Nothing. Just…there’s this abandoned hospital in Manchester. I went there with a friend once. Snowiest day of the year, and what you said reminded me of him. That’s all.”

“I know that place!” Phil said, enthusiastically. “I’m from Manchester. Used to sneak in there all the time growing up. My brother’d take girls there.”

“And you?”

“I’d imagine taking girls there,” Phil said. “You know, once I got cool and mature like Martyn. Still waiting for that to happen, actually.”

Dan chuckled, then reached over to brush the fringe on Phil’s head. Dan’s warm fingers touched Phil’s forehead and somehow he felt it through every inch of his body.

“If this doesn’t say cool, I don’t know what does.”

“Hey.” Phil pushed out his bottom lip. “Your hands are freakishly hot given the situation.”

Dan dropped his hand away. “Yes, I’m very warm-blooded.”

“I’m practically a lizard. I’m considering using you like a sun lamp.”

Still feeling the chill, Phil rubbed his hand over his knuckles. Dan brushed the back of Phil’s hand with his fingers. _Shit._

“You are freezing…” Dan said. “Give me your hand.”

“W-what?”

“Please.”

Phil bit down on the inside of his cheek as he put his hand out. Dan placed one hand underneath and one on top, a move that completely obscured Phil’s hand. Then, he squeezed. Firm and oh so warm. He bit back the grateful sound that was fighting to come out of his mouth.

The driver shot them a look in the rearview mirror but didn’t say anything.

The car jolted to a stop, and the driver announced, “Alright, we’re here.”

Dan paid the man as Phil was stepping out of the car and onto the pavement. He was in a row of matching brick townhouses with black front doors. Phil followed Dan up onto the steps, and listened to the jangle of the keys as Dan worked the door open.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said, as he held the door for Phil. “It’s not much.”

Phil stepped into the dark just as Dan flipped on the light. The room illuminated revealing sparse walls and a few bits of simple furniture. He had a nice cozy looking fireplace though, and a shelf full of books.

“I love your fireplace,” Phil said.

“I can put on a fire if you want. Warm up your lizard body.” Dan gave him a playful smirk. It was a friendly, familiar gesture that somehow eased back the growing tension.

“That might be nice. I feel like I’m about to sprout some scales.”

“Can I take your coat first?” Dan asked.

Phil nodded, and slipped out of his coat. He handed it to Dan who hung it with his own on a wonky coat rack by the door. Then, Dan walked over to the fireplace and crouched down. He pushed up his sleeves before selecting a few pieces of firewood from the basket. He took a long match and lit the fire. It took a few tries, but eventually a nice flame caught. Warmth wafted toward him.

“Toasty,” Phil said as he sat down on the sofa.

Dan stood up and dusted his hand off on his jeans. “I’d offer you some wine, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of us to drink tonight. You know what I could go for a glass of though, if you want some? Ribena.”

Phil smiled. Was this a man after his own heart or what? “You drink Ribena?”

“It practically qualifies as an addiction.”

“Everyone at uni says it’s for kids, but hell, at least I’m not guzzling back Malibu and taking exams hungover like half my flatmates.”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Fuck ‘em.” He wandered off toward a small kitchen Phil could only glimpse.

He couldn’t believe he was here, here sitting on this stiff, grey sofa in the house of a man he’d only met a few hours before. Phil had no idea what the protocol for any of this was. He only knew that he needed to get to know this man better.

By the time Phil thought to let Dan know the ratio of water he liked with his Ribena, he’d returned with glass in hand. Phil thanked him and took a sip.

“It’s perfect,” Phil said. It really was. Phil liked his on the sweet side and Dan had somehow hit the ratio just right. “Thanks.”

Dan smiled. There was pride there, and something else. Another something Phil couldn’t name yet.

Dan sat down and took a sip of his own, then sat it down on a coaster on the coffee table. Phil did the same.

He looked around the place. There was only the bare minimum amount of furniture necessary. The walls were white and blank. No posters or paintings or family photos.

“How long have you lived here?” Phil asked.

“A little over a year,” Dan said.

“It’s very… minimalistic…I like it.” He didn’t really. It was actually pretty sad, but he wasn’t about to insult the home of a good-looking man who made his pulse race and his palms sweat.

Dan chuckled. “You hate it. You don’t have to lie.”

“It’s nice, it is. It could just maybe use some houseplants.”

“Don’t start with the bloody houseplants.”

“What’s wrong with a houseplant?”

“Nothing,” Dan sighed and looked down at the scuffed up hardwood floor. “They just make me a bit… sad.”

“Oh,” Phil picked up his Ribena and stared down at the purple liquid. “I find them rather cheerful, actually.”

“I know you do,” Dan said.

The phrasing was a bit strange, but Phil didn’t have a chance to question it. 

“You want to do something,” the tone of Dan’s voice brightened. “I’ve got Mario Kart on the wii.”

“I love Mario Kart,” Phil said, “but I have to warn you, I’m really good at it.”

“Good to know, mate.”

Dan turned on his television, set up the console and handed Phil his controller. Dan flopped down beside Phil on the sofa, closer than he’d been before. It gave Phil an excited rush and he found himself leaning into the feeling—leaning in to smell Dan, and maybe he shouldn’t have been smelling him, but it was simply a matter of logistics. He was already too close. It had already happened. Dan smelled like sweet, woodsy cologne… he smelled like the fireplace, like warm.

They picked their players and their karts. Soon enough, they were zooming around the track. Dan came in first every time and Phil was sure he hadn’t played Mario Kart with someone who could play it as well.

“Holy shit you’re good,” Phil said. “You could go professional or something.”

“That sounds like a stable career.”

“And working at a thrift store is?” Phil’s face immediately fell. Could he have shoved his foot in his mouth any harder? “That’s not…I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“I’m serious. It’s not like my dream career.”

“What is?”

“What is what, Phil?”

“Your dream career? The business you had with your best friend?”

A small smile crossed Dan’s lips. “Yeah, actually.”

“So why’d you move away? I mean if it was your dream and all.” Phil sighed. “Sorry, I’m such a busybody. That’s what my mum always says, anyway.”

“Phil… you’re fine. It’s just not an easy thing to explain. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. It was almost like… you ever have those dreams where you’re still like in the middle of your GCSEs? And there’s that moment when you wake up. There’s this total sense of relief that you didn’t actually forget to revise for your maths exam?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess?”

“Well, it’s like that… only in reverse.”

Phil tilted his head and blinked. “You know you’re not making any sense, right?”

Dan rubbed one of those large hands over his face. “Yeah, mate. Well, what’s your deal then? You know mine…”

“I do?”

“As much as you can.” Dan sighed. “So, why are you here in a stranger’s flat on Valentine’s Day?”

“I… I don’t really know.”

“I guess we’ll just have to remain mysteries to each other then.”

Phil looked over at Dan again. He looked at those lovely crow’s feet around his eyes, at the swell of his bottom lip, at his gently sloping nose. The part of Phil that had wanted to solve Dan like a puzzle melted away. Dan wasn’t a puzzle. He was a person, and Phil didn’t need figurative pieces. He needed the literal curve of Dan’s wrist against Phil’s finger slipped under the hem of his jumper sleeve.

Dan’s eyes fluttered shut, and Phil’s mouth went dry.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Dan breathed out.

“Do you not want to?” Phil asked.

If Dan was changing his mind, that was fine with Phil, even if he would be disappointed. But it had felt like there had been intent from both of them in coming to this flat, this late at night, on Valentine’s day.

“That’s not it, Phil,” Dan whispered.

Phil scooted closer on the sofa, sliding his finger down to Dan’s palm. “Then, what?”

“There are things you don’t know about me.”

“Are you married?” Phil asked.

“No… I already said—”

“Are you a serial killer?”

“No, I’m not a—”

“A spy? A robot? Were you sent from the future to kill me?”

Dan let out a sharp laugh. “No, Phil.”

“Then, I really don’t see the harm.”

“The harm in what?”

Phil felt the rush of hot nerves again. Something about Dan was bolstering his confidence right up until the crucial moment. Then, in all his Phil Lester clumsiness, he’d fumble it up again. He didn’t want to do that this time.

“The harm in kissing me," Phil whispered.

Dan looked absolutely pained as his chest rose and fell heavily. His mouth had fallen open, showing off a little shimmery wetness.

Dan lifted one of those perfectly big hands and stroked his thumb across Phil’s cheekbone. That touch, as small as it was, gave Phil the confidence to lean forward, to dip down, to take Dan’s bottom lip between his own lips.

It was as immediate as lightning, as jolting as that too.

Dan was kissing him back, their mouths wonderfully, wetly, smacking together. It was the only sound in the room beside the slight rustle of their clothes.

“Phil…” Dan ducked away from Phil leaning in for another, hotter kiss.

Phil let out a whine he wasn’t proud of.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No… no,” Dan said, putting his hand on Phil’s chest. “Not at all. I’m just still not sure that this is a good idea.”

Phil settled back on the sofa, his back against the arm rest. He sighed. “Did you want me to go?”

“Please don’t.” Dan looked a little terrified.

“Okay.” Phil gave him a small smile. “Do you want to play more Mario Kart?”

Dan nudged him with his shoulder. “Yeah, I gotta give you a chance to beat me right?”

Dan did give Phil a chance. Another hour’s worth of a chance but he still hadn’t managed to beat Dan. Not even once. Dan was freakishly good at it. 

“You know, you could have a heart. You could let me win at least once,” Phil said.

“Is that what you want? Do you really want to win that way?”

Phil shrugged and shot a playful smile over his shoulder. “Yeah, doesn’t bother me.”

Dan nudged his shoulder, and Phil pushed back against him with a little more force.

“Hey,” Dan growled, then reached out to actually shove Phil. 

Phil toppled over, then turned to shove back. It was almost a relief, even through the playful roughness, just to be touching Dan. He wondered if they were both doing it for the same reason. To touch each other without expectation, to touch each other even though, for some reason, Dan felt like they shouldn’t.

Dan reached around Phil and tickled his ribs. With a twitch, Phil giggled. He tried to smack Dan’s hand away, but Dan was faster than him and caught Phil’s hand in his own. He squeezed it, sending tingles through Phil’s body. Dan’s eyes shut as he rubbed his thumb over Phil’s fingers before sliding his hand away.

“D-do you want more Ribena?” Dan asked, staring down at his knees. 

“Maybe a little. If you want some.”

Dan nodded and stood from the sofa. He grabbed both their empty cups and walked into the kitchen again. Phil let out a breath and leaned his head back against the sofa. All that touching had sent extra blood between his legs and he was trying to just look around the living room to find something to distract him, but the thing was that there really wasn’t very much to notice. 

Dan broke through Phil’s thoughts as he walked back into the room with the glasses of Ribena. He handed one to Phil, then sat down beside him. Phil took a sip—it was still that perfect ratio.

“So you said you lived here for like a year?” Phil prompted.

Dan nodded. “Yeah, why?”

He looked around the room. “It just seems like—”

“Like I never really moved in?”

“Kind of…”

“I guess I never really did. I moved around for a while before that.” Dan took a sip of his drink. “I felt like if I did then it was admitting defeat, admitting that I really was stuck here.”

“Why are you?”

“Why am I what?” Dan’s voice was low.

“Stuck here. I mean, couldn’t you move? If you don’t like York?”

“I can’t.” Dan let out a breath, his mouth tipping into a frown. “I don’t really like it, but it’s the only place I can breathe.”

“Why?” Phil whispered.

Dan just turned his head toward Phil, looking him in the eye. The contact was too strong, too much, like being flipped inside out. 

“I told you. I really can’t explain it, Phil,” Dan said.

“You can try. I promise I won’t judge you.”

Dan gave him a small smile. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s just truly not that simple.”

Phil let out a breath. “Then let’s forget about it.”

“Forget about it?”

“Yeah.” Phil grinned over at Dan. “Just pretend nothing else exists but right here and right now. In a way, it’s kind of true. Albert Einstein believed time was a construct, you know?”

Dan looked over at him, his expression skeptical but somehow still soft. “Did he?”

“I think so.” Phil tucked a leg underneath himself, and leaned a little closer to Dan. “So like basically everything is just sort of happening all at once, but we can’t see it because of our perspective. You know, like how there are sloths in South America living their sloth lives, but we’ll never see them. We can’t see it happening now, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t happening now.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Phil.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said confidently. Mostly just because Dan had a look of amusement on his face and that was at least something like happiness. It was better than the lost look he’d had just moments before.

“If you say so,” Dan said,

Phil just kept watching Dan, enjoying the soft lines arounds his eyes and the deep dimples that would appear like magic when his cheeks were moved in a certain way. When Phil had seen him earlier that night, he’d thought that this man was subjectively the most attractive man he’d ever seen, but right now, it was hard to imagine that Dan’s beauty was anything but inerrant, objective truth.

“So what would you do, Dan?” Phil asked, his voice low. “If the only thing that existed was right here, right now?”

Dan let out a broken laugh and shook his head. His voice came out just as low as Phil’s. “You want the truth? You want to know what I would do?”

Phil swallowed. “Yes.”

Dan leaned in. Phil could see him trembling. Dan laid the backs of his fingers against Phil’s neck and stroked softly. Phil’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned his head back, a shaky breath falling from his lips. Dan tucked his head down. His forehead pressed against the hollow of Phil’s throat. Then, he lifted his head and breathed hot air onto Phil’s racing pulse.

“This is such a bad idea,” Dan said.

“Why?”

“Because of tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Phil said gently. “Never heard of it.”

Phil felt Dan’s thumb fall against his chin. The touch shocked Phil’s eyes open and he looked down to see Dan scooting in and up. He leaned their foreheads together, let the warm sides of their noses touch. There was barely enough room for breathing between their lips, yet they still hadn’t completely closed the distance. Phil felt the thrum of his heart in his fingers and his toes, in his kneecaps and in his mouth. In all the places they weren’t touching but he wished they were.

They stayed there like that too long for the kiss to be sudden, but somehow, when Dan brought his mouth to Phil’s mouth it still felt sudden. Like shock, like revelation. Phil responded as soon as he could wrap his head around the warmth he was feeling all over.

When they parted for air,  Phil asked, “Are you going to push me away this time?”

“I should.”

The burning excitement that had revved up inside Phil started to recede at those words. “Oh…” He tried to hide his disappointment, but he couldn’t imagine he was doing a very good job. He was _really_ disappointed. Because he was _really_ into this man. 

“I should, but I won’t.” Dan kissed Phil again.  Harder, deeper, just _more._

Phil threw his leg over Dan’s lap, driven by instinct.  He sank his hands into those gorgeous curls and felt them soft and silky between his fingers. He licked into the warmth of Dan’s mouth, pressed their tongues together and tasted the shared sweetness of the Ribena. 

Dan’s large hands were on Phil’s back, sliding up and bunching the soft fabric. His mouth left Phil’s and slid wetly to his chin, and down to his neck. It was rough and desperate. He knew there would be pink bruises there in the morning, but Phil didn’t care. He hoped Dan littered his pale body with those marks. 

When Phil shifted to get a slightly more comfortable position, he felt Dan’s arousal beneath him and hissed at the sensation. Dan moved his hands to Phil’s hips and held him down. Phil felt his eyes roll back as he rolled his hips down, letting Dan hold him there as they kissed.

“Phil?” Dan breathed against his lips.

“What?” Phil said softly back.

“I’m sorry.”

Phil sighed and leaned his head against Dan’s shoulder. “Please don’t say that.” 

Dan pulled away, just enough to look down, to keep his gaze away from Phil as he spoke. “If I… If I asked you to have sex with me, would you?” Dan whispered. 

Phil flushed hot at those words, felt his jeans get tighter. That was _not_ what Phil had thought Dan was going to say. Not at all.

“Yes,” Phil answered. “Are you? You know… asking?”

There was hesitation and still no eye contact until Dan finally looked up at Phil again and nodded. 

Phil smiled, then kissed Dan. His energy spiked… with each touch it just seemed to get hotter, stronger. With each kiss, Dan’s timidness seemed to melt. His touches grew harder, despite still being frantic and shaky. He was grasping for Phil, grasping and holding and reaching for everywhere.

Suddenly, Phil felt himself being pushed back and up to his feet. It didn’t take much for Phil to follow that guidance. For him to walk backwards as Dan kept kissing him, kept tugging on his shirt to pull him in closer. Dan hadn’t said a word, but Phil could feel the energy all over them, could feel evidence of their want every time they got a little too close. Phil knew exactly what was happening. Dan was leading him out of the living room, down the narrow hall and to the bedroom. 

Dan’s bedroom was as sparse as the rest of his house. White walls, grey sheets. A nicked up dresser and night stand. But Phil didn’t care about the interior design. He cared about how it felt like Dan was drawing on his skin with his fingertips, leaving shivery, tingly touches on his arms, and the back of his neck.

“Can I?” Dan whispered against his ear as he played with the top button of Phil’s shirt.

“Yes, please. _Please._ ”

Dan crushed their mouths together again as he plucked open each button, struggling with a few of them, until the shirt was completely open and Dan could run his hands up Phil’s bare torso.

“You’re so soft,” Dan said quietly, reverently.

“Thanks?”

Dan laughed, and they were kissing again as Dan shoved the shirt off Phil’s shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Phil didn’t have a great body, at least he didn’t think so, so he felt self conscious being the only one shirtless. 

Phil slipped his hands underneath Dan’s jumper. His stomach was hard, flat, and gave way quickly to the rise and fall of his ribs. Dan pulled the jumper off a tossed it against the wall before kissing Phil like crazy again.

When the backs of Phil’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gave easily. The mattress squeaked under his weight as he scooted back to see Dan looking down at him, hair disheveled, lips red and swollen from the hot, desperate way they’d been chasing each other’s mouths. There was almost no hair on his chest, and he was thin, thinner than his clothes had suggested. That rosy patch on his cheek had found a few matches on his neck and below his collarbone. Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. 

Dan rubbed his bulge while he watched Phil watch him. Phil spread his legs without even thinking about it.

The sound of metal clinking as Dan unhooked his belt knocked the air out of Phil’s lungs. He drew in deep breaths to keep up with his pounding heart as Dan unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down his fly.

Dan let out a low growl, then crawled over Phil on the bed. Phil felt small beneath this taller man, this broader man, with his massive hands and large arms. He liked it—the way Dan felt like this beautiful barrier between Phil and the world he’d never quite felt equipped to navigate. 

Phil leaned up and Dan pinned his head back down to the mattress with the force of a kiss. Phil had been kissed before—by guys and girls—kissed and fucked and all the things two people can do together. But it had _never_ felt like this. Like getting confused in a riptide. Like trying to come up for air but finding you’ve only swam down deeper.

Dan had started rutting against Phil, which absolutely had every last inch of his body electrified. Dan stopped abruptly, then moved that wet, hot mouth in a line down Phil’s skin. His tongue pet over Phil’s nipple.

A groan fell from Phil’s lips and Dan just nibbled and bit in response. If Dan kept doing that, Phil would come in his jeans. But Dan stopped and kept on with his trail of kisses until he was mouthing at the swell between Phil’s legs. 

“Can I?” Dan asked.

Phil liked that Dan asked. That he kept asking, but he didn’t _have_ to. Phil wasn’t going to say no. He wanted Dan—all of him.

“God, yes,” Phil said.

Dan easily popped open the button and unzipped the fly. Phil lifted his hips as Dan worked the jeans down around his thighs.

“Your jeans are so tight,” Dan mumbled as he kissed the little red indents Phil’s jeans had pressed into his fleshy hips. 

When Dan got that perfect mouth around Phil’s cock, his whole body went stiff. Toes curling, fingers gripping into the sheets, little breathy moans from Phil, and stuffed mouth mumbles from Dan. This impossibly attractive stranger, this slightly older man, was blowing him like a god, and it was, by far, the hottest moment of Phil’s entire life.

A strong, wet lick against the underside of his cock nearly pushed Phil completely over the edge.

“Stop, stop,” Phil gasped.

Dan complied immediately. “Phil, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“God, yes. Sorry.” Phil tried to catch his breath. “I’m just close.”

With a gentle smile, Dan pushed up Phil’s leg, so it was bent at the knee, then gave him a love bite on the pale skin there. “You could’ve come. I wouldn’t have minded.”

 _Fuck._ Phil could translate those words— _I wouldn’t have minded you coming in my mouth. I would have swallowed you down._

Phil almost wanted to push Dan’s mouth back to his cock and let him make good on his word, but there was something he wanted, no he _needed,_ from this stranger even more.

A blush crept onto Phil’s cheeks and he shook his head. He bit his lips and spread his legs even wider.

“Oh,” Dan said darkly. “Is that what you want?”

“If you do.”

Dan let out a breath. “I shouldn’t.”

This time Phil was too wrecked to hide his disappointment.  He sighed. “Really?”

Dan laughed—and that sound was just as good as the first time Phil had heard it. He slid up Phil’s body and kissed him on the nose, then on the cheeks and down the chin, and this was not the way one stranger kissed another. But Phil didn’t care. Phil liked it.

“Shouldn’t,” Dan whispered against Phil’s lips. “But I will anyway.”

Suddenly, Dan hitched his leg under Phil’s and flipped them over so Phil was on top, sat on Dan’s lap. He really needed to get the rest of these clothes off this man because Phil was completely naked now and hard, his red erection curving up towards his belly. 

Dan thrust gently into him. “Do you want me like this?” 

Phil imagined it. Imagined sinking down on Dan’s cock, bouncing for him. It was a good thought—it was almost there, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. 

Phil shook his head. “Want… like we were before… you… between my legs.”

Dan sat up, which made Phil slide even closer to him. Dan nudged at his nose, leaning their foreheads together. “I can do that.”

Just as quickly as he’d been flipped up like this, he was on his back again, and Dan was getting out of the rest of his clothes. They were now both completely naked, a mix of stark-white and lightly tanned skin.

And Dan’s cock… Dan had a beautiful cock.

He had a beautiful everything. From his strong shoulders, to his thick arms, to his curved hips, and the long brown scar that ran down it, almost reaching to his knee. 

Slowly, Dan laid his naked, beautiful body back over Phil’s. The first kiss was deep and slow, and the second even more of both. They were both so stiff and hard, their cocks leaking as they’d brush. He liked the teasing feeling of that, but he wanted more, to feel more of them together.

Phil reached down and wrapped his hand around both of them. Dan let out a moan that was so hot, it was almost hotter than the tight, wet slide of them rubbing together. If Phil let himself think about what was happening for anytime at all, he’d recognize how crazy it was. How borderline reckless he was being. He’d had casual sex before, though not often, but he’d absolutely _never_ had sex with a stranger. But the craziest part, the scariest part, was that even though Phil didn’t know this man, this was already the best sex he’d ever had.

There was just something there. Something unnameable.

Every time Dan would nibble his ear in just the right way, thumb over his nipple with the kind of rhythm that sang through Phil’s entire body, every time Dan breathed his name hot and heavy against his skin, it became harder to believe that this man on top of him, who smelled so warm and sweet, was a stranger he’d only known for a few hours. 

They were meeting each other, motion for motion, like this wasn’t the first time they were doing this, like it wasn’t the second or third. It felt like they’d done it so many times they’d lost count. 

Phil would have been content to finish like that, to spill together in the tight ring of his own hand. Dan slipped away from him, his hand sliding down Phil’s shaky thighs, spreading them open a little more. 

Dan dropped wet kisses onto his inner thigh, down and down, to where each touch felt like fireworks. 

“Can I?” Dan asked. His big finger teased between Phil’s legs, not right where Phil wanted them, but close.

Phil nodded. “Oh God. _Dan._ ”

“That a yes?”

“Yes.”

Dan kissed at his inner thigh again. “In the drawer.”

Phil knew what he meant and reached over to the clunky nightstand by the left side of the bed, and rummaged around. He couldn’t quickly find what he was looking for and he ended up chucking some of it out and onto the bed, and the floor.. A pen, some chapstick, a notepad, then _finally_ … He tossed the little blue bottle to Dan who popped it open.

With a hiss, Phil tossed his head back when he felt the cool slickness easing the way of Dan’s fingers inside him. Phil never got this as much as he liked. The slow, stretch and drag of a thick finger working him open. He actually hadn’t bottomed too many times because he hadn’t even had full-blown sex that many times. Most of the time this was just something he tried to do to himself, the other times it was quick, perfunctory, a means to an end. Dan wasn’t treating this moment like that at all. He was treating it like it was a goddamn gift.

By the time Dan was finished working Phil open he was nothing but sweaty, shaky putty under Dan’s hands. 

Phil felt the loss when Dan pulled his hand away and settled those wet fingers on Phil’s knee. Dan reached between his own legs and stroked himself before gliding back over Phil and bringing their mouths together. Phil was so caught up in the kiss, he barely noticed the dull, bare pressure against his rim.

“ _Shit._ ” Phil’s voice cracked. “Wait.”

“What? What is it?”

“Condom,” Phil said a little frantically. “I can’t do this without a condom.”

Dan looked at Phil strangely, his face scrunched up, but then it somehow seemed to hit him. “Oh, oh God, Phil. I wasn’t even thinking. You’re right, of course you’re right. Sorry.” Dan let out a breath. “I never do this. Shit. I never do this.”

“What?”

“I never do this, Phil. I don’t have a condom.” 

Phil wasn’t sure what Dan meant by ‘never do this’, if he meant take home strangers or if he meant sex at all. It didn’t matter either way because Phil was prepared.

“I do. In my wallet in my jeans.”

Dan gave him a strange look, then moved off the bed to get the jeans. He smiled. “You carry condoms in your wallet? All the time?”

“Jimmy made me go to this weird class about safe-sex, and it kind of stuck.” Phil looks over at Dan rifling through his wallet. “I’ve definitely had to replace that condom loads… it’s totally not the same one they gave out for free at the class.”

Dan laughed softly, then tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. There was something so inexplicably dirty about the sound of the latex sliding down over slick, hard skin. He climbed back over Phil, and got back to the wonderful business of kissing. This time when Phil felt that dull pressure against his rim, he did nothing but relax and let Dan fill him all the way up.

By the time he was as full as he could possibly be, Phil was struggling to draw enough breath for his heart to keep beating as fast as it was. Dan was muttering words Phil couldn’t quite understand against his cheeks. 

Phil felt a strange wetness against his face, and for a moment, he thought it was Dan licking him a little, but a sniffle gave away what it actually was.

“Dan… you’re crying.”

“No, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Phil could not for the life of him figure out what was going on with this man. “We can stop,” Phil said gently.

“No, please.”

Phil shushed him softly , an action that surprised him as he pet at Dan’s slightly sweat damp curls. “Okay. You’re okay. Whatever you want.”

Dan drew in another shaky breath, then lifted his head enough to kiss Phil’s lips. He could taste salt in his mouth from the stray tears.

“You,” Dan finally managed. “I want you.”

As if to remind Dan just what was happening here, Phil rocked back against Dan, feeling him go deeper, brush along that place that made little spots of color burst in Phil’s vision. 

“You so completely have me,” Phil said.

It must have been the right thing to say because Dan was kissing him again, and there was less desperation in it, and more _joy._ Kissing him in this moment felt more like smiling than like anything else. 

And that was it, their bodies moving together. Dan pulling out, just to push back in, just to pull out again. A rhythm older than anything Phil could even wrap his mind around, a give and take that came so naturally to both of them that it made Phil feel like maybe he’d never been anywhere else at all, maybe he’d sprouted like a seed right in this bed, a direct result of the blinding sunlight of Dan’s body.  

He tasted Dan’s tongue in his mouth.

He heard the wet slap of their bodies meeting and parting.

Felt Dan’s bite breaking blood vessels in his neck.

Felt the skin of Dan’s back shiver under needy scratches. 

Felt all of it, every inch of Dan buried deep inside him, filling him and stretching him, until he was barely more than a vessel for the incredible ache he was feeling.

An ache that built and built, like Dan was a master mason and Phil was the scattered bricks at his disposal. They were all hands and feet and lips, smoothness and rough friction. They were everything at once, and all the forgotten bits in between.

When Dan circled his fingers around Phil’s aching cock and squeezed, that was it. He was done for. He was coming, and shouting Dan’s name and spilling all over those perfect big fingers. Phil just lay back, fingers pressing into Dan’s biceps as he thrusted and grunted over and over and over until, “Phil, Oh God, Phil, _Phil_!”

Dan collapsed onto Phil, sticky and sweaty and wonderfully heavy. They laid there like that for as long as they could, until Dan slipped out of Phil naturally, until the weight of him was getting too much to even breathe. Phil kissed Dan’s neck softly, nudging him up a little in hopes he’d get the picture.

He did, and rolled off with a sleepy sigh. Dan threw an arm under his head and looked over Phil with the most genuine smile Phil had seen since they’ve met.

“That was…” Dan said.

Phil grinned back. “Yeah.”

Dan jutted forward unexpectedly and kissed Phil’s lips again. It was happy and playful, and all Phil could do was kiss back in the same way. It was all he _wanted_ to do. 

“I should probably go clean up,” Dan said between kisses.

“Really?” Phil pouted, too blissed out at this point to even care if Dan thought he was cool or not.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Dan climbed out of bed, and Phil saw him slip the condom off his soft cock and toss it in the bin before he slipped into the hallway. Phil couldn’t keep his eyes off Dan’s bare ass as he walked. How was he still so pervy after he’d just come and like _that?_

Phil had never come like that or felt like that in his entire damn life. God, maybe it was crazy. It probably was. But Phil really hoped this wasn’t just a one time thing. So Dan was six years older? So they barely knew each other? So what?

Before Phil could even begin to answer the question for himself, Dan was back in the room. He was still stark naked, and he flopped back on the bed by Phil and grinned up at him. 

“Hi,” Dan said.

“Hi,” Phil said. “You okay?”

“I’m great. You?”

“Pretty amazing.”

Dan looked away. “So, um, I understand if you need to go but, like I just want to say you can spend the night. If you want.”

“I definitely want.” Phil wasn’t sure if he should ask this, but one risk had paid of this evening, maybe more would. “Did that feel like…? Like it was a lot for me. Was it, you know, the same for you?”

Dan slid the rest of the way up the bed, so he was looking Phil in the eye. “I felt it too, Phil.”

A heat warmed Phil’s cheeks and he instinctively looked away from Dan’s direct gaze. But Dan would have none of it and pulled Phil’s attention back to him. Dan kissed Phil’s nose, then his forehead and each of his cheeks, then his chin and then his lips again.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked sleepily.

“Got to get all the spots,” Dan said, like that made sense.

Phil just laughed. “You’re kind of silly. I didn’t expect that.”

“I didn’t either, to be honest. You bring it out in me.”

“Well, I’m glad. It suits you. I hope you let me keep bringing it out in you.”

Something flashed across Dan’s face, but it was too quick to place. “You…you want to see me again?”

Phil snorted. “Duh, of course I do.”

Dan ruffled Phil’s fringe, pulling it almost down over his eyes. Phil shot Dan glare as he sorted his hair back out. 

“Fuck it,” Dan said softly.

“Fuck what?”

“All of it. Everything that isn’t me and you.”

Phil sat up, and looked at Dan with his head tilted. “You are absolutely the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

Dan just laid his head on Phil’s lap and Phil carded his fingers through Dan’s hair. He felt like he could play with those curls for years. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Dan asked, sleepily.

“I have seminar, but I don’t have to go.”

“Don’t you?”

“I can miss it this once,” Phil said.

“Good. I was thinking we stay in bed all morning eating cereal and fucking and not giving a damn about the rest of the world.”

Phil tapped on Dan’s forehead with his finger. “I like the way you think.”

Dan started to sit up. “Ow.” He reached underneath his thigh. “Somebody went a little frantic trying to find that lube.” As Dan sat fully upright, he presented the pen Phil had chucked out of the nightstand earlier. 

“Can you blame me?” Phil asked, taking the pen away from Dan. He looked down at the blue tip. “I have literally the strangest urge to draw on you.”

“Resist,” Dan said, putting up a blockade of hands. 

“But what if I don’t want to. What if I feel like your body needs to be graced with a Phil Lester original?”

Dan snorted. “Oh yeah, what would you draw?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’d just write ‘Phil was here’ on your penis.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Fine, then I get to write like ‘Dan’s dank cave’ or something over your ass.”

Phil let out a squawked laugh and then threw a hand over his mouth. “You’re so fucking weird,” he said between his fingers.

“Get used to it, mate.”

Phil really wanted the chance to get used to it. He looked down at the pen in his hand. “I know. I know just what to draw. Let me. _Please_.”

Dan rolled his eyes and looked put out. “Fine. Whatever. I am your canvas.”

Phil grabbed Dan’s hand and moved his arm so he was in the right position. Then Phil put the tip of the pen to Dan’s skin. 

When he was done, he showed off the work proudly.

Dan looked puzzled. “Stars?”

“e.e. cummings,” Phil said. “You know like—”

“This is the wonder that is keeping the stars apart,” Dan said, softly.

Phil nodded. “Exactly.” He presented the pen to Dan. “Now, it’s your turn. What do you want to draw on me?”

Dan hesitated, but he took the pen and then Phil’s wrist. He felt a circle being drawn over his pulse, then little lines around it. When Dan finished, Phil expected to look down and see a sun, but he didn’t.

“Whiskers?” Phil said, raising an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“It’s absurdist humor,” Dan said, tossing the pen across the room. “It defies explanation.”

“You’re absurd.” Phil stuck his tongue out and Dan surprised him by poking it with his finger.

“Come on, whisker boy,” Dan said. “Let’s get ready for bed. I’ve got a toothbrush and some pajama bottoms you can borrow.”

All Phil could do was grin and follow along. This had been one of the craziest, most wonderful, inexplicable nights of Phil’s entire life. 

After they got ready for bed, they turned off the lights and cuddled up under the covers. 

“Maybe tomorrow,” Dan said, with a yawn, “you can help me pick out a house plant.”

 

When Phil woke up the next day, he was alone in the bed.

“Dan?” he called out, but heard no reply. He slid out of bed, his eyes aching from having slept in his contacts, and searched the house for Dan. He called out for him again and again. He searched for him in every room, but Dan was nowhere to be seen. Phil waited an hour, wondering if Dan had just gone out to get them breakfast or something. He waited and wated, but Dan never came back. Eventually the only thing Phil could do was leave. 

Phil felt sick as he took a cab back to his flat, silly as he wiped away tears from the back of his hand, heartbroken as he scrubbed the inked whiskers off his wrist. Phil had thought everything had gone so well. Could he really have misread it all this badly?

Unable to resist, Phil came back to Dan’s flat the next day, and the day after that and the day after that. No one ever answered. It wasn’t long before there was a ‘For Rent’ sign hanging in the window, and absolutely no trace of the stranger Phil had met in a bar on Valentine’s Day. Had Jimmy not seen him too, Phil might have believed he’d made Dan up entirely. 

Over the next months, Phil did his best to move on, to not think about that strange evening. He met other people and kissed other mouths, but nothing ever held a candle to what he’d felt that night. But eventually, _eventually,_ he trained the stiff ache between his ribs to feel and look less like a broken heart and more like a fond memory.

He’d done well enough that when he’d come across another man named Dan, he barely recognized that they shared the same name. Though there was something really familiar about his eyes. 

 

Eight Years Later

 

Phil had been here everyday since the accident. He hadn’t even been home in two weeks, not since Dan had gone out to get him sweets for Valentine’s Day and never come home. Every night since, Phil had been trying to sleep on this uncomfortable hospital chair, listening to the methodic sound of the heart monitor beeping.

The driver that had hit Dan with his car just hadn’t been looking. He was young and distracted and slammed into Dan’s hip as he took a corner too fast and came up on to the sidewalk. Dan still had a habit of wearing all black at night so the driver hadn’t seen him before the collision. Phil was going spray paint all Dan’s clothes glow-in-the-dark neon yellow when Dan woke up. 

 _When—_ that was the word that Phil had been using. It was not the word the doctors had been using. They seemed to be a lot more fond of the word _If._

Phil had just come back with his fourth cup of coffee when it happened. When Dan’s fingers started to twitch, and his eyes started to open, and he started to fight with the tube in his throat that was helping him breathe. 

Phil had been right. It was _when_.

He ran to get the nurses who rushed in to do all their medical things as Phil stood back, his heart pounding through every inch of his body. Finally, they were done with everything and Dan was able to speak, though they said his throat was hoarse and sore.

As soon as he could, Phil was at Dan’s side, squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, Dan. You’re okay.”

He coughed. “Define okay.”

Phil smiled. He was just so damn happy. “Not dead.”

Dan let out a breath and leaned his head against his propped up pillows. “Fuck. I just had the weirdest, most realistic dream. God, it feels like… _fuck._ That felt like so long. Coma dreams suck.”

“What kind of dream?”

Dan rubbed his eyes. “Awful. Awful fucking nightmare. Well, most of it was anyway.” He sighed. “It felt like two years. Two _fucking_ years, babe. Without you.”

Phil didn’t even know how to react to that. He just squeezed Dan’s hand even tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

“How long has it actually been?”

“A couple weeks.”

“Jesus.”

Dan rubbed his eyes again, and as he pulled his hand away from his face, he went pale. “D-did you do this? Did someone do this?”

“Do what, Dan? What’s wrong?”

Dan stuck his arm out towards Phil, wrist up. “Did you draw that?”

When he saw the stars, Phil felt the floor fall out from underneath him. _What the hell? What the fucking hell?_

His mouth dropped, and all he could do was stare, stunned. His voice came out quiet and small. In this moment, he wasn’t talking to his boyfriend, he was talking to a stranger.

“Dan?”

“Well,” Dan said. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, his heart in his throat. “Eight years ago.” 

No, it was impossible. This was all impossible. 

“What are you saying? You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying, Phil?”

“This is the wonder that is keeping the stars apart,” Phil said. “You liked e.e cummings, and you held my hand in the back of a cab and you made the Ribena perfectly and I’d never had sex like that before and, and you left me. You just _left._ ”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. God, I’d never…”

Phil shook his head and stood from his chair. “No, no. I need to understand what’s happening.”

“I don’t know, Phil.”

“That’s why… that’s why you weren’t sure if we should. That’s what you were talking about because you already knew me. That’s what you couldn’t explain.”

“Phil.”

Phil ran a hand through his hair. He knew it would push it into a quiff that would make him look old, but he didn’t care. “Fuck, Dan. You seriously did that? What were you doing in York?”

“What do you think I was—”

“For how long?”

“Two years, Phil!” Dan coughed, and Phil was suddenly overcome with guilt.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I’m not mad. I’m just… I’m just freaking out.”

“It’s okay. So am I.” Dan sighed. “I don’t even know how to mentally process this.”

“I don’t either… you’re… you’re _him._ You’ve always been him.”

“I feel so bad. I mean we were just together an hour ago and…”

“That’s what happened. You went to bed there and woke up here. How does that even—”

“I don’t know, Phil. I avoided you for two years. Once, I figured out what was going on I wanted to be close to you, but I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t want to fuck up space-time or whatever the hell, so I stayed away that whole time. And then, there you were, and I just… I crumbled.” Dan hung his head, and Phil felt Dan’s pain in his own chest. “I’m sorry.”

If this was real, Dan really had been out there alone in York for years, working at a thrift store and living in a crappy flat with absolutely no houseplants. 

“What’s the last thing about now you remember?”

“Getting hit by a fucking car.”

“And then you woke up in York?”

“I woke up in London and realized it was early 2007, and I knew where you’d be and didn’t know what else to do so I just went. Like I might be able to survive this if I could breathe the same air as you. I was terrified about what was going on back here. If I just disappeared. If I left you that long.”

“Wait… you drew the whiskers on me because of like pinof and whiskers and stuff, but I started drawing the whiskers _because_ you drew whiskers on me, and isn’t that some kind of paradox?”

Dan laughed, a little hysterically. “Probably. I don’t know, mate.”

Phil just looked down at Dan, and of all the things that had just happened, this was the least believable. That he hadn’t recognized Dan earlier. 

Dan had a head of lush, dark curls, and even darker eyes. His lips were pink, a little split. Dark freckles dotted his cheeks, which were gently dented with lovely dimples. And there was a little rosy patch above his jaw on one side.

No doubt about it, it was him—the stranger Phil had met eight years ago in a bar on Valentine’s Day. 

 

 

 


End file.
